


Three out of Eight

by YT_chan



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Resident Evil - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Blood and Gore, Canon-Typical Violence, Concussions, Gen, M/M, Major Character Injury, Pre-Resident Evil 1, Pre-Slash, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-15
Updated: 2020-01-15
Packaged: 2021-02-27 15:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22269409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YT_chan/pseuds/YT_chan
Summary: What was that? Are you shy, Chris?” Wesker teasing him was something heneverwanted to happen again.Chris eyed Wesker through his glasses, squaring up his shoulders almost like he was bracing himself for the humiliation. “I wasn’t exaggerating, your hair is always nice.”Chris goes out on a mission, and him and Wesker have a few moments. Mostly a gen fic.
Relationships: Chris Redfield & Jill Valentine, Chris Redfield/Albert Wesker
Comments: 7
Kudos: 57





	Three out of Eight

**Author's Note:**

> Hiya everyone! I'm new to chrisker and this is my first RE fic, so I hope you guys like it! Enjoy.

“I thought I’d find you here.” Chris recognises the voice first before he can actually see from who it’s coming from, and with a grunt he places the large dumbbells back on their holders, sitting up and wiping the sweat off his face.

“Captain,” he addresses, all too out of breath to have sounded formal enough, but in his defence, it is his break now. Which leads him to wonder what Wesker must have possibly want for him to come get him at this time, and for the man himself to come personally instead of sending someone more convenient like Barry or Jill. He waits for his captain to speak, scanning the gym floor to find where he put his bag which he’d also haphazardly thrown his shirt on. Before he spots it, Wesker has his attention again.

“I know it’s your break, but something has come up that you should be aware of.” Wesker adjusts the shades he always seems to be wearing and looks down at the papers in his hands before continuing. “It seems that Barry and his group are having some difficulty in their mission, and they require some assistance.” His captain is frank and to the point, another defining quality about him, and Chris had thought he’d become accustomed to that by now, but news of Barry on a mission takes him by surprise. That was probably why he hadn’t seem all day, and why Wesker was here with this news. Clearly the mission must not have been that difficult if Chris wasn’t sent on it, but it turns out everything doesn’t always go as planned. “Get your gear ready because you’ll be heading out, I’ve already alerted Jill. I want to see you both in twenty in the parking lot. Understood?”

Chris nodded, still trying to fathom what must have gone wrong for Barry to need backup, and what he was trying to do in the first place. It was rare for this sort of situation to happen, and Chris just hoped that Barry was holding up OK.

“You don’t have a lot of time, so hurry up and get your shirt on at least.” Just as he was about to answer, said shirt was flung at his face, the pungent smell of sweat with it. He pulled it off of him, chuckling as he did, only to find the door already closing and Wesker gone. That man had a strange sense of humour.

* * *

As point man, Chris always prided himself in doing everything to his utmost best, including keeping punctual, so it was no surprise that he was first to arrive. The parking lot was devoid of people but crowded with all sorts of parked vehicles, and just as he considered the fact that Wesker had yet to arrive, he sauntered out from behind one of the jeeps, smirking in a way that meant he knew exactly what Chris had been thinking. Chris cursed under his breath, yet the laughter bubbling in his throat betrayed any sort of loss he felt.

“I don’t know how you do it, Wesker.”

“It’s called being the captain.” Chris shakes his head as he joins him, smile comfortable on his face.

“And yet you come dressed spick and span like you had all the time in the world, even your hair is nice. And then there’s me, still trying to tie my shoes going down the stairs.” Chris chuckled to himself, not noticing Wesker giving him strange looks.

“Since when could you tie your shoes and walk at the same time?” Behind that professionalism Chris could tell that Wesker was being genuine, and it made him burst out laughing at the notion of it, that his captain’s seriousness could bite him in the ass in such a way.

“Since never, that was a joke.” He knew he shouldn’t be laughing this hard, especially since it was at the expense of his captain, but it was just hilarious how a smart guy like Wesker could think so stupidly sometimes.

“Joke or not, that’s a dangerous stunt to pull off.” And if anyone was listening close enough, they’d hear the slight concern in his tone.

“I know. I was just exaggerating the difference in both of us.” Finally having calmed down from his laughter, Chris sent a smirk his way to Wesker this time, letting himself revel in the upper hand he had over the other man for once.

“Were you exaggerating about my hair being nice too?” Any sort of victory Chris felt he had over the man just completely went down the drain as the embarrassment brought by his own words made him trip on his own tongue, his own smirk long since wiped off and seemingly now on Weskers face. He scrambled for an answer in his mind, aware that either answer would be weird or insulting. He settled for being honest, avoiding his captain’s gaze as he mumbled incoherently. “What was that? Are you shy, Chris?” Wesker teasing him was something he _never_ wanted to happen again.

Chris eyed Wesker through his glasses, squaring up his shoulders almost like he was bracing himself for the humiliation. “I wasn’t exaggerating, your hair is always nice.”

“Well, here is a man I can trust.” Chris turned away, rolling his eyes and unintentionally pouting like a child. Tapping his foot impatiently, he checked his watch and sighed.

“Where’s Jill?” He huffed, the other man beside him checking his own watch too.

“Taking her time.” Wesker muttered, his patience obviously being tested.

“As she always does.”

“Hey, I heard that!” Jill marched her way over to them, glaring at both men, and Chris couldn’t be more relieved to finally get going.

* * *

During the car ride, Chris pointedly made it his goal to avoid any sort of interaction with Wesker, still too caught up in his own embarrassment about what went down in the parking lot to even acknowledge the man at this point. Since he was driving, he’d say he got lucky and used this opportunity to focus solely on getting to Barry. However, it was becoming increasingly difficult to stay quiet when his curiosity grew the closer they came to their destination: what had happened for Barry to request backup? And what was his mission about anyway? Surely they at least deserved an explanation for that unprompted, but from a quick glance Wesker’s way, it was obvious their captain wasn’t going to be talking much.

Inhaling, Chris finally broke the silence.

“What was Barry’s mission about?” Jill leans forward in the back seat, as if she hadn’t considered the question herself but was still very much interested.

“We got a report of several murder victims being found in the outskirts of a forest here nearby, Barry and his unit were sent out to apprehend the culprit. It should’ve been simple enough with all of them against one man, but apparently it’s more than just one person to deal with.” Jill sighed, falling back into her seat as if she expected that sort of a story, and Chris tried not to think about just how many people would be lying dead when they got there.

“Some people are just absolute psychopaths.” Jill mumbled.

“Indeed. The victims were all mutilated too.” Both of them grimaced at the mental image, and at the sick actions of a few individuals. But nevertheless, they were here to take them down.

Finally arriving at the forest, Chris could see another S.T.A.R.S vehicle parked on the side of the dirt road, and he too pulled the car over and stopped it. Before getting out, Wesker quickly debriefed them on what they had to do, explaining quickly how they were to find the murderers and avoid killing them unless necessary, then locate the rest of Alpha team.

“I’m sure you’ll be able to identify the murderers easily,” Wesker said, looking between the both of them, “We rendezvous here when our mission is complete. Keep your radio handy since I’ll be giving you updates, if you fail to respond at some point I’ll assume you’re dead.” Chris and Jill side-eyed each other wearily. “So you better respond.” They nodded, Chris holding back a grin as all three of them climbed out of the car and prepared to officially begin their mission. Wesker gave the signal, and then they were off.

* * *

The forest was dense with tall trees mighty and thick as they created huge shadows over the land, all sorts of weird bugs that Chris will never be able to name flying around incessantly as he trudged on ahead. He hadn’t come across any of his team members so far, silently hoping it was because they were just somewhere deep in the forest and not lying on the ground dead, but the longer he weaved through trees and shrubs, and hopped over fallen trunks, the more his worry grew for them and their safety. Not to mention the fact that the sun was sinking slowly yet surely. The forest in sunlight was bad enough with crazy killers on the loose, it would only get much worse in the dark. Just as the thought of hungry wolves prowling in the darkness popped into his mind, he heard the crackle of twigs from somewhere to his left. He turned towards the sound, hand gripping his gun which was still in its holster, and he approached the source of the sound cautiously. He pulled back the bush, and had to resist the urge to gag as he did.

It looked like the body of a women, her stomach torn and turned inside out, all of her ribs broken and protruding at disturbing angles. There was dried blood everywhere, including on the bush he was still holding. The stench hit him a second later, the smell of rotting flesh and drying blood so overpowering Chris had to turn away to save himself from throwing up. The sound had come from a dear by the body, the animal feeding off of the remains of the carcass but was spooked away when Chris came close.

“Shit,” he cursed, trying to get some air that didn’t reek of death into his lungs. He had to do something about the body though, it wouldn’t be fair to the victim to just leave her like that. But this wasn’t part of his job, and he knew that Wesker would chew him out if he saw him dealing with someone dead when he could be trying to save someone that was alive. It was a fair point, and if it was any other location Chris would come back to deal with the body afterwards. However, he wasn’t sure there would even _be_ an after with how big the forest was. Making up his mind, he tore away some of the bushes around and laid them on the body as a sort of cover and make-shift blanket. It was the least he could do.

Finished with that, he continued on forward, aware that the sky was changing to warmer colours of orange and pink, a sign that time was flying, and that if he didn’t hurry up and complete this mission, he would either be presumed dead, or actually be dead.

Jumping over more logs and mushroom-filled areas, Chris began to think that maybe he was just not looking right. Sure he was given a general direction to go in, but this was his first time in this forest and every tree looked the same, there was no distinguishing one patch of grass from the other. What if he was going in circles? Doubt crept into his mind, but he pushed it away in favour of being headstrong and the kind of help his team needed.

He paused for a moment to take a sip from his bottle, leaning against a tree as he did so. He certainly wasn’t making very much progress with this mission, he thought as he closed his water bottle. Just then, his radio came to life, the static of Wesker’s voice coming cutting through the silence of the forest.

“This is eagle one, do you read me? Over.”

“Eagle two here, I read you. Over.” He grabbed his radio from his vest, putting it closer to himself as he listened carefully.

“We’ve located where Barry and the others, and two of the murderers have been captured. There’s a possibility one of them might be heading your way so stay alert. Over.”

They’ve already captured _two_ of the murderers _and_ located the others? Chris ran a hand through his hair, blowing air out of his cheeks as he felt his pride getting damaged from the news. He didn’t let it show though as he kept his voice steady and firm with his reply.

“OK, understood. I found one of the victims but other than that-“

The unmistakeable sound of a gunshot pierced the air, and then seconds later his body registered the sting of a graze on his arm. Somebody had just tried to shoot him. He cursed under his breath and scrambled to get behind a tree for cover, hearing Wesker demand for answers through the radio.

“I think someone has finally decided to show themselves, I’ll get back to you. Over and out.”

“Chris-“ He turned his radio off, focussing on trying to find the son of a bitch that just tried to kill him and had most likely killed a dozen of the victims too. Judging from the bullet shot, the murderer was definitely not using a sniper or that bullet would be unquestionably in Chris’s head right now, and he was probably high up somewhere. The angle of the scratch the bullet created on his arm was too steep for it to have been a level shot, so his target was on higher ground then. He tried to scan his surroundings as much as he could without risking the murderer trying to shoot him again, and when he spot him high up in the trees, just meters away from him, their eyes met.

The murderer seemed to have thought that he’d be safe up in the tree tops, but he was soon going to find out how wrong he was. Chris steadied his gun and fired two shots into branch that the murderer was perched upon, chipping the wood significantly and weakening it. The psychopath, as Jill correctly put it in what had seemed so long ago now, didn’t even flinch. He didn’t even consider that his current ground could collapse any moment now, instead his eyes were crazed and his sickly, pale skin put into perspective that this man didn’t even have the right mind to take care of himself properly. Just as Chris heard the branch snap, the man above leaped at him, rather than fall to his demise as was planned. The impact of their collision sent them both crashing to the ground, where a winded Chris lay beneath them from having broken the murderer’s fall. His head was already throbbing from having hit it so hard, but if he really wanted to confirm his concussion he had to survive the murderer’s onslaught of attacks first.

The psycho, who’s screams sounded like chalk on a board, pulled out his knife and swung it down with his both hands. Chris just managed to hold him back on time, but the pounding in his head was affecting his usual strength too, and his arms were shaking under the weight pushing them down. The only thing keeping him living was the adrenaline through his body that was countering the weakness he felt from his could-be concussion. He managed to throw the guy off of him though by wedging his knee into his stomach, a sort of declaration to himself that there was no way he would die now by the hands of some wack-job when he was a trained member of S.T.A.R.S. His team was counting on him and he couldn’t let them down. Wesker chose him as pointman because he believed in his talents and quick-thinking, how could he say he deserved that title if he couldn’t even restrain one scrawny man? Chris clambered to his feet, groaning as his head gave a burst of pain, and his vision swam for a few seconds before settling on his target before him. Overcoming the pain, he approached the murderer who was still on the floor writhing in pain, and set his backpack down beside him to pull out some rope he had.

After restraining the man’s hands and feet, he then lugged him over his shoulder, preparing to take him back to their rendezvous point. No doubt Wesker would be mad for the way he cut him off earlier, but he was sure that his captain would understand his situation seeing as he was captain for a reason. Fighting the growing migraine and underlying dizziness he felt, as well as the urge to vomit from time to time, Chris headed on back, readjusting the guy on his shoulders every now and then to stop him from slipping off. The sky was darkening now, the shades of pink blending into purple and it was a telling sign that Chris had to get a move on before he was plunged into unforgiving night of the forest. He fiddle to turn his radio back on, thinking now was a good time to update his captain, but movement in his peripheral vision made him freeze. It could just be his probable concussion working against him, or the shadows of the approaching night creating shapes that resembled humans, but he couldn’t give those murderers the benefit of doubt. Any mistake on his part could cost him life if he wasn’t careful. He glanced over to where he thought he had seen something, his heartbeat loud in his ears, but there was nothing. He sighed tiredly, his sustained injury affecting his stamina to the point where a layer of sweat covered his skin. He felt hot and nauseous despite his shivers, but even with a banged up head he still had a clear mind, and knew to keep pushing through, or else he’d be dead.

And yet, something flitted in the corner of his eye again.

“Who’s there?” He called, swallowing down the bile rising in his throat. He tried to find whoever it was, but the dim lights of dusk were making it hard to see, and he almost forgot to consider that it could also just be another animal like the deer he saw previously. He didn’t have time for this. “Show yourself!” When not even the wind responded, Chris grumbled and continued forward.

Ten minutes later and he felt like he was going back in circles again, and it didn’t help that his vision kept spinning too, as if trying to find his way through this forest without a concussion wasn’t hard enough. Only to make matters worse, night was descending upon them too quickly for his liking in a way that made Chris question whether his estimation of time was correct and if it had, in fact, only been ten minutes. Deciding to just not think about his predicament at all, he focussed on one tree at a time, or what he thought was one tree. It was hard to tell with his double vision at this point. He was beginning to recognise some areas though, coming past the place where he’d seen that victim, and his own optimism at that prospect made him happy.

Then there was a hand over his mouth.

He couldn’t keep hold of the murderer on his shoulder at that point, feeling it slide right off as he lurched at the attack. The hand was cold over his face and it pressed hard into his flesh, pulling him back until he was tripping over his own feet and landing on his ass. Those cold hands continued to push him down, but Chris wasn’t going to get pinned down twice in a day, and yanked the attacker over his body in one fell swoop. He landed only for a second but got right up just as quickly, his weapon being revealed from behind his back as it glinted in the disappearing light. It was a giant wood-cutter’s axe, some parts of the blade chipped from overuse most likely. It made Chris sick to think that it probably wasn’t used to cut wood at all. Rolling out the way of an attack, Chris also got to his feet and aimed his gun to shoot the murder weapon out of the lunatic’s hands. Shooting once was all it took for the murderer to drop his weapon, blood trickling out of his hand as he wailed at it. His voice was even more grating than the other guy’s.

Before he could begin to restrain him though, somebody else ran at him, yelling at the top of their lungs and swinging their bat at him. Chris dodged the attack smoothly, side stepping out of the way and grabbing their arm with a practiced ease he’d trained to achieve. He came face-to-face with a women, he hair shaved off in patches that made it look like someone mowed over her head, and the bat she had clenched in her hand was studded with endless needles all sticking out in ways that reminded Chris of a pin cushion. Not wasting a second longer, he twisted her arm, forcing her to drop the bat, and then kneed her in the stomach just as he had done with the first guy. She screamed in obvious agony and stumbled to the ground with her arms clutching tightly at her stomach.

Unfortunately that encounter had given the other man enough time to recover, and he charged as well, battle cry and all. However, as unexpected as this entire mission had been to begin with, the man slipped out a small dagger from under his sleeve, most likely being able to hide it better because of the lack of light, and he jabbed it into Chris’s leg before proceeding to get punched in the face. Chris hissed at the wound, pulling out the dagger with a grunt and watching it bleed instantly. He cursed, his face scrunching in pain as he moved to tie up the two culprits while they were down. They both screeched hideously as if their voices were literally clawing out of their throats, thrashing around while getting tied up and captured once and for all. They really were lost-causes.

Chris looked around in case somebody else was also hiding, but the forest was quiet once more save for the unruly murderers whose mouths were now sealed shut. He hadn’t even noticed how out of breath he was, his chest rising and falling as he practically heaved for some air in his lungs. Hands on his knees, he watched a bead of sweat roll down nose and drop off, probably to fall somewhere on the ground. His heart beat hard against his rib cage, each thump resonating in his ears, and the constant pulse served to put Chris in some sort of trance. With his adrenaline levels decreasing, the effects of his concussion started to overwhelm him again, the nausea that disappeared during his confrontation with the murderers coming back full force and hitting him like a tonne of bricks, putting aside the fact that he was also bleeding from his leg.

Sweating more profusely now, Chris collapsed back onto his natural cushion, resisting the need to spill his breakfast out through his mouth as he gagged involuntarily. Not forgetting that he was on a mission though, he switched on his radio, the crackling immediately filling the silence around him.

“Eagle 2, do you copy? Over.” That was distinctly Wesker’s voice, although even through the radio he could hear how tight it was with seething rage. Chris kept the button on his radio held down in order to answer, but he couldn’t muster up enough strength for at least a few seconds of communication, his finger slipping off his radio. A wave of nausea washed over him and he turned over to puke on the ground, shivering more now at the strain it put on his body. With a grimace, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and concentrated on just breathing normally, taking a small sip from his water bottle. Wesker was still calling him through his radio, and Chris wondered what punishment his captain would give him when they got back from the mission. _If_ they got back, his mind supplied ever so helpfully, he needed to live first, or else they’d be carrying him back in a body bag. The thought didn’t do any good to calm him down.

He was shivering hard, and despite his own mental encouragement, he couldn’t just brush off the feeling that he was indeed dying. People could die from concussions if it was severe, or so he had heard, and apparently it was the inflammation squeezing the brain that causes the death, not the actual hit to the head. But Chris was never into science anyway, not even in medical terms as that was always the job of someone else. His job was to just fight and survive. And even then he was doing a pretty shit job. He sighed, closing his eyes and deciding to just let live out his last moments peacefully without morbidly pondering about his impending death.

* * *

“There he is!” Somebody gasped beside him, shaking his shoulder but easing up when they realised he wasn’t responding. A hand was pressed to his forehead, and someone else spoke, their voice muffled.

“We need to take him to a hospital.”

* * *

“Don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” A woman is speaking, her voice is deep and smooth and it feels reassuring just to listen to it. “As long as he stays rested and takes the medication when he’s supposed to, there shouldn’t be any problems.” The click of high heels must mean that someone just left, it was probably that doctor, seeing as he hears Jill call his name right by his ear, the softest he’s ever heard her talk. He wants to see her face, to see what kind of trouble he caused for his friend, but his eyes are heavy and refuse to open. Maybe he should try again later, when he’s finished up sleeping.

* * *

Through his hazy mind, he realises that he’s in a hospital even before actually seeing the room he’s in. The borderline uncomfortable mattress and sickening smell of antibacterial wipes gives it away though, as well as the stiffness of his back as if he’s been lying in for days. He probably has if he recounts his earlier endeavours and why he was here in the first place, but then again, he could be giving himself too much credit.

He attempted to open his eyes for the first time since days (if he was right about that), a typical hospital room flooding his vision. Craning his head to the right, he sees a chair beside his bed, something telling him that Jill must have been sitting there at some point. All the weird details and memories his brain is recollecting just feel like one big fever dream, and it’s hard to tell if this period of consciousness is just another one of them.

He tries clenching his fist, but it’s no use. His hands are numb and useless, and he really just wishes someone could explain what was going on right now. He’s tired of just staring at the blank walls around him.

“So you’re awake.” He can’t help himself, but he stiffens, relaxing a moment later. Wesker stands by the door with his arms folded, his shades glinting in the hospital lights, and if Chris didn’t know any better, he’d say he was screwed big time. Wesker saunters over just as he had done in the parking lot, but there’s no easy smirk on his face to say that this situation was a joke, instead his lips are pressed into a thin line and his eyebrows are knitted together. Chris gulps past the dryness in his throat, looking up sheepishly at his captain.

“I’m… awake.” His voice sounds parched and croaky, and he must look like a complete mess, nothing like what Wesker ever shows up as.

“You’re an imbecile. An absolute moron.” Chris winces, managing to run a hand through his hair just out of pure habit, and he feels the bandages wrapped around his head.

“Sorry?” He tries, but it sounds stupid even to his own ears. He at least looks at Wesker apologetically, but he’s only met with a cold fury in the shape of Wesker’s carefully blank expression. “Well, I don’t know what to say. The guy fucking jumped at me.” He protested, as weak and whiny as it sounded, he had a right too. Of course if he had a choice, he would avoid getting a concussion, but he didn’t, so what could he have done? “I couldn’t explain everything to you when I was in the middle of getting killed, so I just turned off my radio. I turned it back on though, didn’t I?” Except that he failed to communicate to Wesker his situation and probably made everyone think he was dead with how long he’d gone without saying a word to his team. But that didn’t matter; he was alive.

It seemed that despite his attempt at explaining himself, Wesker’s stone face full of disappointment wouldn’t let up, and the more Chris went back over the events of the day, the more he could understand the justification behind his captain’s anger. He had been reckless, putting the team in danger by not informing them that three of the murderers had already been captured. And what if, under his spell of unconsciousness, those grisly psychos managed to escape? They could’ve easily killed him, then gone after the rest of the team, and without any communication, they would have no idea of the dangers awaiting them.

“I take it you understand the consequences of your actions now.” Chris nodded solemnly. “You’re lucky Jill insisted on all of us looking for you, otherwise we all would’ve just driven home without you. And I would’ve had to find myself another pointman.” Chris snorted, already feeling a little better at Wesker’s subtle humour.

“I guess it could be pretty difficult finding another pointman who can take down three guys in one go like I did.” At the end of the day, that was their mission, and ignoring the other unfavourable side events that occurred, Chris did do a fine job of rounding up those sick bastards. After all, the last thing they all wanted was the victim toll increasing because of their incompetence. He grinned, knowing that his achievements in this mission will continue to make him a valuable asset to the team. From the side of his bed, Wesker sighed, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose. However Wesker’s reaction looked to other people, Chris knew that it was a sign that he wasn’t in too much trouble. “That was pretty impressive though, right?” And if he could nudge his captain without inducing a headache he would, a playful gesture that only he ever seemed to have the guts to do.

“Considering there were eight of those hooligans in total, I’d say taking down three of them is worthy of some praise.”

“ _Some_ praise?” Behind those tinted glasses, there was probably some eye-rolling action happening, and thinking of Wesker’s aloofness made laughter bubble in the back of Chris’s throat.

“Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Redfield.” But at least whatever disappointment there had been before, irritation tight in Wesker’s face when he first came in, was no longer present, instead the makings of a pout showing itself. Chris never really considered Wesker the pouting type in the first place, but being able to witness it now for the first time was like some sort of revelation to the bed-ridden man, his heart thumping just a little faster as he thought about ‘Wesker’ and ‘cute’ coming into the same sentence. “I expect to see you at work after you’ve been discharged and have fully recovered. You’ve got a lot of paper work to do and there’s no way you’re going out on the field straight away either.”

Chris groaned, running a hand down his face as he watched his captain leave the room without even looking the slightest bit remorseful, in fact, if Chris didn’t know any better he’d say Wesker was probably smirking behind his hand. All thoughts of Wesker being cute flung out of his head as he glared at the retreating back of his captain.

“Asshole.” He mumbled under his breath, but apparently still loud enough for Jill to hear as she entered the room, a telling smile on her face.

“Lots of paperwork?” She said, smile still on her face and voice too sweet to actually be so.

Chris huffed, some strands of his unkempt hair blowing out of his face, “I get no mercy when it comes to you guys.”

“You almost gave us a heart attack!” Jill said with a jab of her finger, and Chris winced a little at her volume. She understood immediately and hushed a little, but still continued to berate him. “You had us all worried, I’m pretty sure you don’t deserve any mercy at this point.” He pushed her prodding finger away, lifting up his blanket a little at an attempt to shield himself from her onslaught of scolding.

“It’s not like I wanted to get a concussion and pass out.”

Jill scoffed, lacking the fuel of her fury. “You’re lucky the captain still sent the team to search for you, even after what he said before we even took off.”

“Wesker did?” At his obvious confusion, Jill backed off a little, explaining the situation more.

“Yeah… He sent me and Joseph to come look for you. He said there was no way you’d die so easily by a couple of loonies, although I couldn’t have disagreed with him more.” Ignoring the taunt from Jill, Chris processed the information and then compared to it what Wesker had told him. Knowing Jill, she liked to make a few remarks here and there, but she was no fibber when it came to important mission details, and he knew that she was being genuine as she spoke to him now too.

“Oh…” Was all he could respond with, and Jill raised an eyebrow at him, before shaking her head.

“You definitely need a lot of rest.” She patted him on the shoulder then took her leave, not before one last devious smile. Still in a daze from both the new found information and the medication he was on, he snuggled up against the pillows and listened to the whirring sound of equipment working in the quiet room of the hospital. So Wesker had been the one to save him then?

And when he closed his eyes, he dreamt of a certain blonde-haired man.

**Author's Note:**

> Feedback is appreciated! 
> 
> tumblr and twitter: @yaytobio


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